When They Come For Me
by ApathyandEmpathy
Summary: Set during season 3. Santana has been hiding the backlash of her outing.Quinntana Friendship.


Santana winced as she paused to lean against the long row of lockers lining the school hallway, she knew she only had a few minutes to drag herself to the safety of the girl's bathroom but her shaking legs were doing nothing to help her cause. It was only the sound of shouts echoing behind her that forced the cheerleader to push herself away from the cool metal wall and hobble the last few steps. Pushing through the unusually heavy door, Santana hurried over to one of the stalls and slipped inside, she made fast work of sliding the lock across even with her shaking hands. She might have been fairly confident that no-one was going to follow her into the girls' bathroom but she wasn't taking any chances, not when four of the mullet sporting hockey team were involved.

The fact she had needed to resort to hiding at all made the cheerleader sigh, her shoulders sagging as she eased her tired body down to sit on the lid of the toilet. She couldn't help but flinch as she heard a stampede of bodies rushing past the bathroom, the hockey players obviously unaware of her whereabouts as they rushed down the hallway, probably assuming she would have headed for the choir room. Santana let out a bitter chuckle at the thought of ever considering that room to be her safe place. Bathrooms had locks and she still didn't feel safe tucked behind the solid door, never mind cowering behind a piano.

Santana jumped as she heard someone stride into the bathroom, the sound of sneakers scuffing across the tiles seemed inhumanly loud, and she held her breath, silently praying for the intruder to go away.

"Santana? Are you in here?"

Santana closed her eyes as she let her head dip at the sound of the familiar voice.

"I know you're in here," Quinn rephrased as she came to a stop in front of the only closed door. Shifting her weight so she could lean against the wall she continued softly, "Open the door."

Even though she knew Quinn couldn't see her, she shook her head, her voice muted as she swallowed the ever growing lump in her throat that served to warn her of an impending breakdown.

Quinn sighed as she pushed herself off the wall, standing and staring at the door was only going to get her so far, but it wasn't as though she could break the damn thing down. Not unless she wanted a trip to Principal Figgin's office and a lecture on the importance of respecting school property. She was in the process of weighing up the pros and cons of trying to kick the stall open, when she heard the small click of the lock and the door swung open.

Santana stayed silent as she used the wall to support herself, her eyes glued to the floor she could feel Quinn's gaze taking in her dishevelled appearance. She wondered briefly if the blue dye, from the slushy bath she had endured, was doing anything to hide the black-eye she could feel developing or the tell-tale tear tracks marring her features.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Quinn stated simply as she stepped forward and offered her friend her hand. She knew better than to sweep to Santana's aide, fussing over her like a child would only spark her defensive side. Quinn bit back her smile when Santana willingly took her hand, and she led the unsteady girl over to the row of sinks, indicating for her friend to hop up onto the counter.

Grasping the edge of the counter Santana grimaced, before carefully easing her body up to sit in the gap between the sinks. She allowed herself to lean back against the mirror, her body propped up awkwardly, as she tried to ease the pressure on her torso. The sound of Quinn unzipping a bag drew the cheerleader's attention and she smiled sadly as she spotted a familiar sight; one of the groups tried and tested post-slushy recovery kits. She watched silently as Quinn pulled out a clean sweatshirt and placed it on the counter before digging out two towels.

"I don't think you got much in your hair," Quinn began as she put one of the towels under the hot tap, her hands shaking as she squeezed the excess water out, and slowly placed it against Santana's cheek. She had half been expecting the other girl to shove her away but instead she watched as the normally stoic girl gazed down, her downtrodden expression only broken when Quinn tried to wipe away some of the remaining slushy from her eye. "Sorry…" Quinn mumbled, wincing in sympathy as she cleared the dye away, only to reveal the first signs of bruising.

Santana said nothing as she allowed the blonde to carefully clean the rest of her face, the other girl's gentle touch a soothing contrast to the ugly red blotches no doubt marking her face. She had never really considered how much a face-full of ice could hurt, sure Karofsky had nailed her with a cherry facial before, but that was nothing compared to the sheer force the hockey team had put behind their multiple onslaught. Santana sighed as she pulled her gaze from the floor to look at Quinn. "Is it bad?"

Quinn hesitated, teeth gnawing her bottom lip she threw the now soiled towel into the sink as she muttered, "Nothing a little make-up won't fix."

"You're a terrible liar," Santana replied as she tried to look in the mirror, the simple action causing her face to crease up in pain.

Quinn gasped as she heard her friend let out a whimper of pain, she watched the brunette's arm abruptly clamped around her abdomen, and felt helpless as she saw Santana's eyes begin to water. Reaching forward Quinn grasped Santana's free hand. "It's okay… breathe… you're okay…"

"It hurts," Santana said. Her voice so small it barely carried across the room.

Quinn felt her heart clench, she had never seen the other girl so vulnerable and it scared her more than she was willing to admit. Santana had always been the tough one, this wasn't supposed to happen. Not to her. Quinn gritted her teeth as a wave of anger reared up, although she couldn't decide who she was more anger with; the Neanderthals on the hockey team or herself. "I should have been there," The blonde whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she jerked her head up to look at her friend. "I should have protected you."

"You couldn't have stopped them," Santana replied as the pain in her chest eased.

"I would have tried," Quinn growled fiercely as she squeezed the other girl's hand.

Santana nodded, her words cut off as a violent shiver shook her tiny frame. She could feel the ice cold liquid seeping in through her Cheerio's uniform, which was undoubtedly ruined, and clinging to her skin. She cast a glance at the sweatshirt sitting on the counter and as Quinn reached out to pick it up, she carefully slid off the counter to stand on trembling legs.

"Let me help," Quinn instructed as she saw Santana struggle to unzip her top. "These zips are a pain in the ass."

Santana gave her friend a flicker of a smile as she nodded, she couldn't stand to have the now blue-tinged top on any longer and as soon as Quinn had unzipped her, Santana shucked the top off and let it drop to the floor with a satisfying slap. She ignored the horrified gasp from the blonde in favour of snatching the sweatshirt from the counter where it had been placed it.

Quinn stuck out a hand in an attempt to stop Santana from hiding her beaten body under the fabric. "Wait…"

"It's fine."

Quinn shook her head as she took a tentative step forward. "Let me see, please."

Santana faltered as she backed away from her friend and drew the sweatshirt to her chest in an attempt to cover herself, even the light pressure on her skin causing her to flinch.

"I'll be gentle."

Santana bit her lip but allowed her arms to fall to her side as Quinn edged forward. Screwing her eyes shut, she choked back a hiss as she felt the blonde run her fingertips down her stomach, it hurt like hell but she didn't want her friend to feel guilty. So she bit back her almost instinctual profanities and let the blonde continue.

"I don't think anything is broken," Quinn whispered eventually, her eyes meeting Santana's as the other girl relaxed slightly. "But I think maybe, we should get you to the nurse-"

Santana shook her head adamantly. "No, I just want to go home okay?" The thought of spending any more time in the school that allowed attacks like the one she had suffered, made her stomach churn. "Help me get this on."

She wanted to argue with the other girl but knowing how stubborn she could be Quinn settled for helping Santana pull on the baggy sweatshirt. "Do you need a ride?" Quinn asked as she turned back to the counter and began cramming the towels back into the bag.

Santana sighed and tearing her eyes away from her reflection she shrugged. It was a Wednesday and one of the days that Brittany had a dance class after school. She normally spent the afternoon with her Abuela but that was no longer an option, and the thought of going back to an empty house wasn't making her feel any better.

"You could come back to my house. I have ice-cream," Quinn said as she watched the emotions play out on her friend's face. Taking a step forward Quinn reached out to take Santana's hand almost pleading as she whispered, "Just tell me what you need."

"I _want_ to feel safe again," Santana snapped, her eyes burning fiercely. "Can you do that? Can you go back in time and stop Finn fucking Hudson from basically painting a target on my back?" Ripping her hand from Quinn's grip she gestured to herself. "Can you stop _this_ happening? The slushy's, the never-ending insults, the fact that my locker has been defaced every day this week. Can you stop the jocks tripping me up or trying to knock me over when I walk down the hall? Can you stop that guy in my chemistry class from staring at me like I just stepped out of some cheap porn flick? Can you stop the rest of the Cheerios threatening to drop me?" Santana paused, tears springing to her eyes as she bit back her next question, _can you make my Abuela love me again?_

"I didn't know-"

"You didn't want to know," Santana argued as her fists clenched at her side. "None of you did."

"You could have told us," Quinn tried feebly, her eyes dropping to the floor in shame. She didn't even give Santana a chance to argue back as she admitted, "Except you shouldn't have to tell us."

"It's not like we're friends anymore, Quinn," Santana sighed dejectedly as she turned her back on the blonde in favour of staring blankly at her own reflection. "You don't have to look out for me."

Quinn froze, her eye's meeting Santana's in the mirror she refused to break their stare. "You're right; I don't _hav_e to look out for you." She didn't miss the way Santana deflated; her eyes drifting down to stare at her hands and hide her watering eyes. Reaching out a hand Quinn gently grasped Santana's arm and used it to persuade her friend to face her. "I don't have to look out for you," Quinn repeated as she dipped her head to catch Santana's eye, the other girl barely putting up a fight anymore. "I _want_ to."

"Why?" Santana asked, her forehead crinkling in confusion as she stared blankly at Quinn.

"Because, whether you want to admit it or not, we _are_ friends." Letting her hand drop from its place on arm she took the other girl's hand in her own. "We might not be the kind of friends who stay up all night eating pizza and braiding each other's hair while we wait for our brownies to finish baking," Quinn smiled, taking pride in the smile that flickered across Santana's features. "And we are definitely not the kind of friends that spend hours gossiping over coffee and copies of _Cosmo_." Edging closer to Santana she sighed, teeth gnawing her bottom lip she continued, "You are a pain in the ass."

"Great. Thanks, I-"

"I wasn't finished." Straightening her shoulders Quinn shot Santana her trademark glare, not exactly surprised when her friend merely rolled her eyes. "You are a pain in the ass _and_…so am I." She chuckled at the enthusiastic nod her words received. "We are the kind of friends who constantly bitch at each, and about each other. We go days without speaking, we fight over stupid menial little things and sometimes, over the important stuff too. I think you're the only friend I've ever had that I've literally fought with," Quinn paused, eyes locked with Santana's she tightened her grip on Santana's hand, their fingers threaded together. "But you are also the only friend I've ever had who would fight _for_ me. We have both made some pretty huge mistakes, but I still know that at the end of all of it, you will always be in my corner; you will always be there for me when I need you. So, please, let me help you."

Santana dropped her gaze to the floor, she open her mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut again. A few minutes passed before she finally muttered, "Figgin's is useless, he can't, or he won't, do anything."

To most people it would have seemed as though Santana hadn't heard Quinn's impassioned speech, and that she hadn't taken the other girl's words seriously. But Quinn knew better, she knew Santana better and she knew that _this, _this was a code. A quiet acceptance of an offer Santana wasn't sure she deserved. "He's always been useless," Quinn agreed, a thousand examples springing to mind without even trying. "But you don't need him, you have _me_." Raising an eyebrow, Quinn smirked confidently, "And I have much better ways of dealing with _anyone_ who has a problem with my friends. Come on," Quinn said as she turned to the door, tugging on Santana's hand to drag her along.

"Where are we going?"

Pushing open the door and marching them into the hallway, Quinn grinned as she started to explain her plan. "Well, first we're going to make a pit stop for painkillers and ice-cream…" But she found herself trailing off as Santana, not-so discreetly, scanned the hallway and tried to wrestle their hands apart. Quinn halted mid-step. "What are you doing?"

Santana exhaled loudly as she glared down at her hand, still linked to Quinn's apparently unbreakable grip. "You can't hold my hand, Quinn."

"Why not?" Raising an eyebrow, as if to challenge her friend, she looked around the hallway. "I'm pretty sure Brittany isn't about to leap out of one of these lockers and kick my ass."

Santana chuckled at the image but her smile quickly faded. "It's not Brittany kicking your ass I'm worried about. You know what people in this school are like. They see you holding my hand and pretty soon it's going to be you getting shoved into lockers and thrown around for being a dy-"

"Don't you dare say that word," Quinn snapped, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "And don't you ever think that I'm going to let the narrow-minded bigots that roam this school, stop me from doing this." Lifting their clasped hands in the arm, she waved them back and forth between them as if to solidify her point.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Santana reasoned, the corners of her mouth flickering into a beaming smile at the proud shrug her words received.

Quinn sucked on her bottom lip, teeth biting gently she tilted her head in thought. "Yeah, I think I do and even if I _didn't_, well…you're worth it." Turning on her heel Quinn tugged on Santana's hand again, her smile widening when the other girl feel into step with her, they hands linked tightly together.


End file.
